by Judy Alter
“How did Eric get so religious?”
“If religious is what it is, I imagine he found it a refuge. A place where there were safe rules… and it’s probably not insignificant that those rules forbid adultery. Meeting his dad, I guess I know why that was such a big thing for him.”
“He won’t ever be executed?”
Jake shook his head. “Almost definitely not.”
“I’m glad.”
“He would have executed you.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, but he didn’t get to.” She picked at the edge of the blanket, then found a small stone at her feet and flung it as far as she could. “Like you, throwing a rock at my outdoor light,” she said, smiling at him. “Jake, I owe you an apology… lots of apologies. And I owe you my life. I always knew you’d keep me safe.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “Let’s not have that talk I’ve been so hard-headed about. I’m glad you’re all right… and I’m glad I could be the one to save you. Makes me feel like a knight in shining armor. But, Susan, no more lies.”
She nodded, and after a long minute, she said, “I don’t suppose anything like this will ever happen to us again. We can just go on and grow peacefully old on the campus.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said, leaning over to kiss her. “Have we got time to stop at my house?”
“I told Aunt Jenny we’d be gone all day,” Susan said almost shyly. “Besides, she’s probably entertaining the judge as we speak.”
“I hope they lock the doors,” Jake said.
“Jake Phillips! That’s not what they’re doing!”
“Why not?” he asked, laughing at her. “That’s what we’re going to do.”
“But she’s my aunt! She’s not supposed to do that!”
Susan had thought their lovemaking would be frantic and furious, after abstinence and the terror they’d been through. The cast on her leg hindered them, but not much. Still, they moved slowly, as though in a dance, caressing, clinging, tasting each other, slow to rouse but then quick to finish. Afterward they lay without talking, Jake stroking Susan’s head, nestled in the curve of his neck. She lay perfectly still and soon her even breathing told Jake that she was sleeping naturally and deeply, probably the first time in two days she’d slept without the aid of pain medication. He let himself drift off, content with his world.
“Jake!” Susan pushed herself up on her elbows and stared at him. “Jake, I’ve just had a terrific idea.”
“About what?” he mumbled.
“My Zane Grey project. I can see where it’s going. And Eric, bless his heart, with all his worry about adultery, helped me figure out Grey’s attitude toward sex. Oh, Jake, it’s terrific. It’s going to be so good.”
“And nothing,” Jake said, “is going to change. You’re always going to wake me up with these terrific ideas.”
This time they made love like young animals—hindered by a leg in a cast.
* * *
Brandy Perkins elected to return to the dormitory and finish the semester. When Susan and Jake spoke on Brandy’s behalf, Dean Atwater had a serious and confidential talk with the girl and then announced she would be allowed to return to school. It was, he explained, part of keeping the scandal quiet. And, besides, she deserved one more chance. He believed, he said, more in individuals than rigid rules.
It was unbelievable to Susan that most of the campus seemed unaware of Brandy’s part in Missy’s murder or of all that had gone on after the murder. They simply knew Eric had been arrested. Dr. Atwater wanted to keep it that way, and there had been no blaring headlines about campus girls in a call-girl ring. Brandy and Vicky would certainly never tell.
Brandy was dismissed from the hospital the following week, still swollen and bruised but awake and alert. Vicky would room with her.
“We’ve had conversions before,” Ned Perkins said wearily, “and each time I’ve hoped they were permanent. This… this is more dramatic. It may last.”
Dr. Atwater’s office notified Susan that her suspension was officially lifted, and the faculty was looking forward to welcoming her back to class.
“I’ll bet,” she said to Jake. Her situation with Dr. Scott and Ernie Westin had only worsened, because she’d triumphed in a sense. She knew, though, she hadn’t triumphed over them, and they’d still be trying to sabotage her. Now she was ready for them.
Her first day back, several faculty members came by her office to welcome her with comments like, “I knew you were innocent,” and “How’s your ankle? Can’t believe what happened.” Ellen, now mostly recovered, though her chest still ached, ran interference for her and fetched coffee and lunch.
Susan was as gracious as she could be about the welcoming comments—and for her that was a real effort. She knew many of these same faculty members were the ones who had shunned her. Like Ernie, they now wanted to be on the right side. Especially since it was apparent she had the provost’s support. Ernie Westin kept his distance, with good reason. He knew what Susan thought of him, and he probably feared her scalding tongue.
She did not have John Scott’s support, though he made a show of welcoming her back by calling her into his office.
“Doesn’t he know you’re on crutches?” Ellen fumed. “Couldn’t he come to you?”
Susan just smiled. “This should be interesting.”
John Scott stood to welcome her and indicated a chair. Then, very formally, he told her he was glad the matter was resolved and she had been cleared. He did hope, however, that she would get her car back soon.
“It’s repaired and cleared, sir. But I can’t drive it for six weeks. Jake Phillips will be bringing me to and from campus.”
“Ah yes, Mr. Phillips. I believe you’re involved with him.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You know I disapprove of nepotism.”
“Sir, with all respect, you’d be fine with it if I dated a faculty member.”
He disregarded the comment and moved on. “On another note, I understand Dr. Atwater has postponed your tenure review. I don’t approve of such a move and protested it to Dean Brighton to no avail. Your review will be next year, and I will not be chair. I am leaving Oak Grove at the end of this year.”
Susan desperately wanted to ask if he’d been asked to move on but she didn’t. He was, after all, tenured, but he hadn’t covered himself with glory in this whole thing. She left his office as graciously as she could, without expressing regret at his impending departure.
In each of her two classes that day, Susan received a round of applause when she entered the room. Young men gallantly rose to help her to her seat—none of her usual walking around while she lectured. And each period was pretty much wasted, because the students had so many questions. She figured it was their right to know. Brandy Perkins sat in the front row in the women’s lit class and actually smiled at her.
When she got home that night, Aunt Jenny had fixed one of her favorite meals: salmon croquettes, stewed tomatoes, and mashed potatoes. Jake came for dinner and said not a word about the menu but ate heartily.
When Susan said, “I can make these,” he laughed.
“You may not have to,” Aunt Jenny said. “I’m going to move to Oak Grove. I decided today.”
“Ah… to live with me?” Susan asked tentatively, envisioning a permanent end to her privacy, a long-term restriction on her relationship with Jake, and maybe even eventual frustration with this aunt she now adored.
Even Jake showed a bit of concern on his face.
“Oh, my, no. I couldn’t do that. Your house is too small, Susan. You really ought to look for a bigger place. I’ll go back to Wichita Falls next week… John is going to drive me. Meantime, Sunday I’ll roast a turkey. I always think you should celebrate with turkey, and we have a lot to celebrate.”
“It’s kind of close to Thanksgiving,” Susan protested. “What will we have for Thanksgiving?”
“Why, turkey, of course. But I don’t know what you’ll eat for Christmas. John
is taking me on a Caribbean cruise that whole week. You and Jake will have to fend for yourselves.”
Susan’s mouth dropped open. “I had no idea the Caribbean interested you.”
“It doesn’t,” Aunt Jenny said airily, “but if John thinks it does…” She shrugged as though to say, “What else can I do?”
“Aunt Jenny, when you move here… you’re not going to marry Judge Jackson, are you?”
“Why, Susan, he hasn’t asked!”
Susan tried a different approach. “You’re not going to… ah… live with him?”
“Oh, Susan, that’s for young people like you and Jake. No, I thought I could live in a small house in town here a lot more cheaply than in Wichita Falls… and be close to all of you. John likes the idea.”
“I bet he does,” Susan said. Then, not all her questions answered yet, she said, “Aunt Jenny, if you knew Eric had murdered Missy and trashed my plants, killed the kitten, and done all that stuff, why did you keep mothering him?”
“Well,” her aunt drew the word out, “I like to mother people, and Lord knows that poor boy needed love. But I also thought there had to be some spark of good in him… and if I was kind enough to him, he’d finally be remorseful and tell us what he’d done.” She hesitated. “I guess I don’t understand… what’s the kind of personality Officer Jordan talked about?”
“Sociopath,” Susan supplied, “but I’m not sure that fits Eric. Anyway, he’ll probably go to some state or private mental facility.”
“And I’ll send him cookies and things,” Aunt Jenny said.
THE END
Acknowledgments
Sincere thanks to editors/proofreaders Mary Dulle and Lourdes Venard, who both probably have read this more than times than they want to remember. And to Lyn Stanzione, who was patient with my indecision about cover art.
As always I owe a great deal of gratitude to Fred Erisman, who read the first draft and made helpful comments.
And of course thanks to my family who are my biggest supporters. I love you guys!
About Judy Alter
Judy Alter is no stranger to college campuses. She attended the University of Chicago, Truman State University in Missouri, and Texas Christian University, where she earned a Ph.D. and taught English. For twenty years, she was director of TCU Press, the book publishing program of the university. The author of many books for both children and adults, she retired in 2010 and turned her attention to writing contemporary cozy mysteries. She is the author of the Kelly O’Connell Mysteries and the Blue Plate Café Mysteries.
She holds awards from the Western Writers of America, the National Cowboy Museum and Hall of Fame, and the Texas Institute of Letters. She was inducted into the Texas Literary Hall of Fame and recognized as an Outstanding Woman of Fort Worth and a woman who has left her mark on Texas. Western Writers of America gave her the Owen Wister Award for Lifetime Achievement. She is a member of the Texas Institute of Letters and Sisters in Crime and a past president of Western Writers of America.
Alter is the single parent of four grown children and grandmother of seven. She lives in Fort Worth, Texas with her Bordoodle, Sophie.
Also by Judy Alter
Kelly O’Connell Mysteries
Skeleton in a Dead Space
No Neighborhood for Old Women
Trouble in a Big Box
Danger Comes Home
Blue Plate Café Mysteries
Murder at the Blue Plate Café
Murder at the Tremont House
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